Tell Me A Story
by X-Silent.Echo-X
Summary: For what it's worth, Arein never believed in her parent's bedtime stories. After all, a story of her ancestors protecting the greatest Assassins ever known to the brotherhood? Nonsense! She did remember one rule though, never to fall for the Assassin you protect. ConnerXOC


"Get back here, you maggot!"

The irritable voice of the merchant could be heard for quiet possibly miles, the surrounding people cringing as the sound waves reached their ears. Of course, no one bothered to chase the thief; his only thing to show for his crimes was an apple for his dinner. Chocolate eyes watched the man in mild interest. He seemed to be ill, the eyes concluded before turning back to the step that she was sweeping. Much to the girl's demise, however, a gust of wind had passed and moved the cursed dirt happily back to its original place. Moving a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face, she pouted her plump, pale pink lips.

"Such a wonderful day, eh Arien?" The sarcastic voice rung in her head, and in return to the comment he got dust swept onto his shoes. "Hey, watch it, their new!" The man detested, quickly lifted his left shoe up to dust it off.

"Quite, brother," The shorter girl laughed, "So I figured I would have the liberty of messing them up before a scorned woman does." The blonde leaned against the broom happily, watching as her brother made a scowl. His dark brown eyes glared at her, his pastel brown hair naturally spiked in a way that most men would spend hours attempting to do. Looking at his blue coat, she couldn't help but frown.

"Why must you join the patriots, Erick?" She had said it in a low tone. They had this argument before, but it just didn't click in her brain. The man sighed, running a hand over his stumbled jaw and groaned into his hands.

"I have explained myself enough; do you not grasp what my words beckon you to?" He snapped, and yet another gust of wind passed and the chills reached their bones. "Listen, a storm in approaching. Go round the horses back into their stables, will you?" With that the conversation was over, and her brother pushed past her with a light brush of her shoulder. In a fit, the girl ripped the bonnet off her head, her blonde hair reaching past her shoulders in a French braid. Letting the stick fall, she rubbed her eyes in frustration. Her skin was tanned, and in the comfort of her family's property she often wore her skirt tied to only reach mid knee. Of course she would be greatly frowned upon if she wore them like this out in public, but her brother had long since pasted the phase of caring for the communities views. Still, while he preferred her to simply wear pants, she liked the feel of the sun against her skin. There was little sun to catch today, however, since a storm was approaching. Though she loved the rain, her brother would find a way to ruin it with his obsession of pulling out old family books.

The first rain drop fell on the girl's forehead and rolled down her nose, the curve at the tip had cause the drop to stop ever so slightly. Sighing as she pulled in her black horse, Dusk, she stroked the dark horses mane and he made a neigh happily in response. The girl sighed and leaned against its tall figure. Suddenly, a strong gust of rain fell, making it nearly impossible for the girl to leave the stable and reach her home without getting drenched. Not that she had a choice; she braced herself, fixing the tall boots that where cuffed to her calf, she bid her horse a farewell and dashed out of the stalls.

* * *

The door was flung open, followed by a loud burst of laughter.  
"Is it that bloody funny?" The blonde snapped, huffing as she wrung her hair out in a bucket in front of the fire. Her brother was still laughing, unable to do more than sit and watch; amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"Yes, it is." Not attempting to hide it, the hunter smirked and began to lean on the chair's cushioned arm. "You look a lot like mom when your flustered." He mentioned, and at this the girl stopped her hair twisting and looked at him.

Being seven years older than her, of course he would remember their mother.

"You think?" The teen whispered, and smiled to herself as she watched the fire. Every day, she wished to find her mother. Was she still out there?

"When does my memory even deceive me?" For the first time today, he smiled as well. His smile was calm and wholeheartedly. "I wonder, sometimes, if the Templars ever let her leave-"

"Do not speak non sense, Erick." The female snapped, turning to him with a serious face. "The Templars and Assassins was simply a tale that should be long forgotten. They where bedtime stories." As if talking to a child who needs to grasp that it was just a dream, chocolate eyes looked dead in his.

"I know you say such things, Aerin, but it doesn't mean that those words ring true."

"Likewise, brother." She spat in annoyance, her dry cloths beginning to wet due to her hair.

"So you are telling me that all the stories that father used to tell us-"

"You may be a adult, Erick," She interrupts his apparent nonsense again. "But you are nothing more than a child." Not wanting to face him, she sighs.

"What would it take you to believe me?" This shocked her; he normally would drop the subject after she told him to. He knew how the subject hurts her, so why today must he insist.

"Bring me the mask." She states bitterly, and she immediately saw his jaw clench. He ran a hand though his hair. The mask. Of all things, she asks for the mask.

From the stories that they were told as children, the mask was what made their heritage. It was what made the legend of Rossogalassia. A metal mask, simple it its shape, minus a wide slit where the eyes where to see. It was normally covered with a hood, but what made this mask particular was the engravings that swallowed it's surface. Almost tribal like, their father once mentioned. The scratches from previous generations, each telling a story.

"If not, then what do you suppose did happen to mother and father?" She questioned, feeling her chest sink. So badly, she wanted to believe that they were alive.

"We shouldn't think about it, ya know." Going back to his normal self, he sighed. "Curiosity killed the cat." He mumbles, almost to persuade himself. By now, the fire was lowering as it would soon be past midnight, and he saw the sleep in the girl's eyes. "You will be seventeen in three days." He changed the subject.

"Aye, I will." She sighed, a mix of emotion in her eyes.

"I have been drafted as a guard for a liberated camp." He says calmly, and the girl turned to him with tired look on her face.

"Oh." She was quite now, left to her own thoughts. He knew that she was crushed. With him gone, she would be left to care for this place alone. She also showed little interest in men, so marrying was out of the question for now.

The rain thudded into the window, determined to get in to ruin their belongings. The blonde watched the fire, as the man got up silently, and leaned over to lightly kiss the top of her head.

"I'm sorry, Arien." Was all he said, before leaving to go to his bed.

"Funny…" She mumbled to herself, a blank look swallowing her. "That's what mother and father said."

* * *

**This is my first Assassins creed story, and my first Original Story, so its a bit out of my safety zone. Please review and tell me what you think, i would love to hear it!**


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